


Scar

by EleanoraWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Minor Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn Keith/Lance (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 09:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanoraWrites/pseuds/EleanoraWrites
Summary: First published on Instagram (username: @/eleanoramckogane)





	Scar

**Author's Note:**

> First published on Instagram (username: @/eleanoramckogane)

Lance hears the soft whimper and stops in his tracks, not sure if he’s just hearing stuff or someone’s actually hurting. When he’s met by the distant hum of the Black Lion charging up, the soft purring coursing through him like the blood in his veins, he shrugs his shoulders and resumes walking.

Until he hears it again and this time he’s absolutely positive it’s a whimper.

He follows the sound, muffled by a door and hesitantly raises his hand to knock.

“Hey, is everything alright?” he asks, ear close to the door. He hears some shuffling, sniffing and something clattering to the ground. He knocks again, a little forcefully this time. “Keith? Is that you buddy?” 

“Just leave me be Lance,” comes the harsh reply from the other side, Keith’s choked up voice sending an uncomfortable chill down Lance’s spine.

“Keith, what is it? Are you hurt? Let me in,” Lance insists, banging his fist against the metal door, a small bubble of panic swelling inside him.

To his surprise, the door slides open. He takes an instinctive step back, bracing himself to face Keith’s usual bad temper storming over him. But instead all he sees is the dim interior of the bathroom and a figure curled up on himself on the floor.

"Keith?” he calls in a soothing tone, his voice a whisper in the dimness. 

He takes a careful step inside, taking in on the scattered first aid kit and Keith’s Marmoran blade and then looks down at the shivering form of his team leader, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth. 

“What happened here?” Lance asks, a sense of dread almost overcoming him. He had never seen Keith is such a vulnerable state before and witnessing it makes his stomach lurch.

“It burns,” Keith’s reply is so strangled, so weak and in so much pain Lance feels his chest constrict at it, throat closing in.

He approaches Keith ever so slowly until he’s right before him, crouching down so he can face him, eye to eye. He raises a hesitant and rather trembling hand and when Keith doesn’t flinch, when he doesn’t pat his hand away, he gently brushes the bangs from his forehead as gently as he can. 

“What burns?”

“My scar,” and Lance notices the crude bandage there. Keith’s eyes are focused somewhere on Lance’s chest, distant and lost in a memory that clearly pains him.

Lance feels the urge to wrap his arms around his leader, to take his burden away and heal his wound. Whatever he saw in that Galra facility, whatever went down between him and Shiro’s clone before they returned somehow broke him in a way Lance can’t seem to understand or fix.

And he hates it, the fact that Keith has to bear it on his own, that he has this stupid complex of enduring pain alone when he could open up to Lance, could share it with him. But instead he prefers to suffer in silence and on his own, a pathetic notion of selfishness that Lance has tried to break before but always failed. 

"Let me see it,” Lance says already moving his fingers to the bandage.

But a tight grasp stops his hand by the wrist and Lance stares down at Keith’s unyielding eyes boring down into him. Lance swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and forces his voice to sound calm. “Keith, I’m here to help you.”

Keith looks from one eye to the other, attentive and searching and Lance feels completely exposed. Keith exhales tiredly, closing his eyes and dropping his hand, his fingers brushing the inside of Lance’s wrist briefly. 

Lance pulse spikes, heart slamming against his ribcage as he tries to focus back on reality.

As carefully as he can, he peels the bandage, the sickening stickiness adhering to Keith’s scarred skin and making Lance’s insides lurch disturbingly. Keith’s furrow deepens, eyes scrunched as he hitches his breathing and bites down on his lips. His hands are now clasped around Lance’s jacket as he grounds himself, a rough whimper reverberating through his body.

“Is it bad?” Keith asks in a winded tone. “I didn’t dare look at it.”

“It looks nasty,” Lance replies gently placing a hand on Keith’s chin and turning his face to the side so he could look at the wound better through the light that spilled from outside the bathroom. “But once it heals, it’ll be one badass battle scar.”

The hands on his jacket slacken a fraction, one corner of Keith’s lips twisting briefly up and the crease between his eyebrows smooths a little.

“I should get Coran,” Lance says. “He’s better at nursing people than I am. He probably knows some kind of Altean antiseptic or something to heal wounds like this. Too bad we lost the healing pods… Man, those things were neat. Remember when Sendak blew up the Castle? I barely have a scar on my back thanks to the pods. Hey, we’re gonna be scar buddies now.”

Keith snorts just a bit at Lance’s short ramble, the wrinkles around his eyes no longer deep.

“You okay?” Lance asks after a few seconds of comfortable silence. 

“Yah, I’m okay,” Keith answers slumping down and pressing his forehead against Lance’s shoulder with a tired sigh, hiding his face away. 

Lance feels the tension build up in his shoulders, feels the way Keith shivers a little and reaches a hand to his head. “Need to talk?”

“I’ll be fine Lance,” Keith replies and Lance’s chest aches for the pain in his voice, so clear and undeniable. It’s barely a whisper, just a grumble of words wheezed out.

“Does it still burn? The wound?”

"A little,” Keith takes a deep breath, his backs expanding as he inhales, then crashes against Lance’s chest as he exhales, completely taking him by surprise.

Lance freezes, not knowing what to do as Keith’s arms wrap around him tightly. But then he relaxes, bringing up his other arm around Keith’s shoulders and holding him close, within the warm circle of his embrace.

He hopes he can transmit the care he feels for Keith; the fear of seeing him agony; the respect and admiration that have always been there, skimming the surface of his rivalry; the friendship that had been moulded by their shared fate as saviours of the galaxy; the love Lance couldn’t outrun that was forged in the face of danger.

After a few seconds, Lance clears his throat, shifting just enough to peer down at Keith. He looked so tired and so drained he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Hey, you should probably get some rest. I’ll get Coran to take care of the burn while Allura and Krolia keep an eye on Shiro. Okay?”

Keith stirs, pulling away and making Lance miss his warmth already. He takes a deep breath, filling and expanding his chest until he exhales loudly, shoulders dropping. Then he steals a quick glance at Lance, averting his gaze immediately as two rosy patches appear in his pale cheeks.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he remarks self-consciously, turning away from Lance.

“Like what? Exhausted, in pain, wounded, wretched about what happened?” Lance asks placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He shivers under his touch but doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch away. “Keith, I understand. I will never judge you for having emotions. Just… don’t keep them to yourself. Trust me, it’s not healthy. Talk to us. Talk to _me_. Whenever you’re ready to talk. I’m here for you.”

Keith exhales again and lifts his head, looking up at the ceiling. Lance waits, hand still squeezing Keith’s shoulder and feeling him slowly relax, the tension not entirely fading but lessening whatever burden Keith carried.

“Thank you Lance,” Keith says suddenly, looking over his shoulder and giving Lance a small smile, one that doesn’t exactly expunges the shadow of pain from his eyes but rekindles the indigo that had been subdued by the tears. 

Lance feels his chest inflate, feels the way hot blood heats his face and how he longs to have Keith once again in his arms, if only to protect him from the phantoms of his troubled mind. But he only smiles back, sharing as much reassurance and as much comfort he can.

“Anytime, team leader.”


End file.
